


Hand in Unloveable Hand

by Insertpoetryhere



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Human AU, M/M, Purple and Red need therapy, Purple is just a sad bitch, Red owns a diner, The inherent homoeroticism of astronomy and mythology, Trauma, ZADR implied kinda just so y’all know, fucked up family dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insertpoetryhere/pseuds/Insertpoetryhere
Summary: Purple has wasted his whole life looking for someone else's story to tell. But what will he do when he suddenly finds himself in the middle of a sickeningly melodramatic story of his own.
Relationships: Almighty Tallest Purple/Almighty Tallest Red
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. The Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is so dumb, I should be ashamed of myself.

Purple had spent his entire life looking for a good story. Not necessarily a happy story, or something to make him feel better about himself. Just a story that could actually hold his interest.

More specifically, a story that wasn’t his own.

He was born in the Midwest, in a small but quiet town by a river that ran somewhat clean. There was a park two miles from his quiet suburban house, a quarry across town that teenagers went to to loiter and get high, and a diner downtown where kids would meet up for coffee and study groups. He lived there with his mother and his younger sister, and that’s as interesting as his life got.

He lived comfortably, and without incident. He hadn’t felt anything real until he eventually left his sleepy town at 18 and never went back.

Ten years. That’s how long he had spent as far away from home as possible. He spent the first three years at some college on the east coast, a choice he regrets more than anything. Life had snapped into perspective when he was 21, conversing with a stranger on the bus.

The man was 40, and had lived in the town Purple was going to college at since he was 17. That’s when Purple realized that all he had done was give up one gilded cage in exchange for a slightly bigger one. One with a few more chain restaurants and a bigger mall.

He dropped out that night, backing everything he could into a few easy to carry bags and throwing away a full ride scholarship with only a year left. From there he traveled from state to state, never staying anywhere longer than a week. 

He’s seen the mountains of Colorado, The beaches of Florida, the towering pine trees of Oregon. There had been a girl in Kansas, an older man in California, and a few people in New York of varying genders and ages. Still, he wasn’t satisfied.

He felt like he had lived two lifetimes at only 28. Now, he was standing outside of some roadside cafe in Arizona. He wouldn’t have stopped here at all, but frankly he needed something to eat or else he was probably going to drop dead. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had eaten something that wasn’t a granola bar, but his money was on at least three days.

The gaudy neon sign read “Red’s Cafe”, with more than a few of the letters burnt out. The diner itself seemed to have a 1950’s vibe to it, though Purple couldn’t tell if that was a style choice, or if it had just been awhile since the place had been renovated.

A little bell went off as he walked through the front door, but neither the patron’s nor the one employee behind the counter seemed to care. He walked up to the bar, passing by some teenage girls in a faded red booth. The bar stools were overly cushioned and attached to the floor, making it difficult for him to shove his 6’4 ass in without hitting his knees against the counter. 

“Can I get you something?” The employee asked him. Purple looked up, his knees pressed against the top part of the underside of the bar.

The young man looked like he was about Purple’s age, with paler skin, red hair, and freckles that looked a little bit like some kind of cryptic connect-the-dots up his arms and on his face. The shirt he was wearing was a bright red, with the restaurant's name embroidered under the off-brand Polo collar. The shirt itself was supposed to be long sleeved, but the stifling Arizona summer heat made him roll the sleeves up to around his elbows.

“Coffee.” Purple said simply. The man gave a nod, turning so Purple could see the tattoos going all the way up his arm. They weren’t all one coherent sleeve, but just a collection of smaller, seemingly random tattoos. He could make out a barcode, what looked like a statue of a greek god, and a cup of coffee that said “fuck off” on it. There was also a faint plus sign that looked like it had been a stick and poke tattoo from years ago.

Purple had something similar on his shoulder blade, but it was a deformed looking butterfly instead of a plus sign given to him when he was 16 and a bit tipsy at a party. He had given the girl (equally drunk) who was doing it full creative control on this permanent fixture of his body. Looking back, it could have been much worse.

The young man leaned closer as he passed Purple the coffee, and he could now see his nametag clearly. “Red?” He read outloud, looking up to the man. “You own this place?”

He looked far too young to own this kind of establishment. This entire diner just screamed “Middle aged man chasing after the good old days”. The young man just shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

He went back to wiping off the counter. “Tell me if you need a menu or something.” He said after a while.

Purple raised an eyebrow. He didn’t really have the mannerisms of a businessman, either. And why the hell was he cleaning off the counter? Could he not find anyone else to do it for him?

He sipped his coffee slowly, grabbing a menu from a stack of them sitting on an unoccupied table rather than interrupting Red’s work. The plastic covering was wet and smelled like lemon disinfectant, which Purple found both strange and comforting.

He browsed the menu before just settling on an omelette (he was hungry, and it sounded really good, he did not care if it was 11 at night) and a side of fries. Red looked over at him. “Ready to order?”

“Uh, yeah.” He told Red what he wanted. The other young man nodded before turning around and leaning over a counter and poking his head through a window that Purple assumed led to the kitchen.

The hit the little bell resting on the ledge a few times in the most obnoxious way he could muster. “Omelette and fries!” He yelled.

An older man appeared in the window, looking annoyed. “Do you need to be so damn loud?”

“Yes.” Red said. “I do.”

Purple watched as the man grumbled before retreating back into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he had an omelette and fries in front of him.

“Weird food combo.” Red commented, sliding the plate over to him. “But go off, I guess.”

“Yeah, but eggs are great and who can turn down fries?” Purple gave an awkward laugh, but Red just nodded and took the menu from him. He began to wipe it down before returning it to the pile. “So what time do you guys close?”

“We’re open 24 hours.” Red said plainly, but Purple heard the cook rush to the window to correct him.

“Oh no you don’t!” The gruff man stuck his head through the window. “You’ve pulled that bullshit three nights in a row! We are closing tonight at 11!”

Purple pulled his phone out, realizing that this gave him about ten minutes to eat and get back to the bus station. He moved his fork to his mouth a little faster.

Red groaned. “Sizz I pay you to cook, not nag me!” Red took the metal shutter attached to the top of the window and pulled it down to help muffle the cook’s protests. He looked over to Purple, who was shoving fries into his mouth with little to no dignity left.

“You know, you don’t have to eat all of that now.” He pointed out, leaning down and grabbing something from under the counter. “We have to-go boxes.”

Half of a fry fell out of his mouth. “Can I… you know?” He pointed at the plate, then at the box Red was holding. The other young man passed it to him, along with a napkin. “Wait, what’s this for?”

“You have ketchup on your face.” Red said. 

Purple flushed a little in embarrassment. “Oh.” He looked at the napkin. “Um, where?”

Red shrugged. “Everywhere.”

Purple took the napkin and ran it over his lips and the surrounding area. “Did I get it?”

“Nope.” Red grabbed another napkin, leaned forward, and wiped something off of his nose. He narrowed his eyes, checking Purple’s face for any more. He gave a satisfied nod. “There you go.”

The other man grabbed the ketchup covered napkin from next to Purple’s plate, throwing both papers into a garbage can behind the counter. Purple scraped the contents of his plate into the little styrofoam box, trying not to let the ketchup from the fries touch the omelette. He could probably eat it on the bus ride to LA.

He took his bags and the box from the counter, taking a step towards the door. He looked over his shoulder at the young man cleaning off the counters. The little bell rang again as he opened the door and stepped out into the cool, summer night air. 

He looked around, finding a light post with a payphone attached to it. He dug into his pockets, looking for any spare change. He fished out $1.75, just enough to pay for a call to the local taxi service and get them to send one to his location. He sat down on a nearby bench, pulling his phone out and waiting for the taxi to arrive.

Ten minutes later, the diner’s door opened again. He turned around and saw Red, no longer in his uniform, carrying out a black trash bag and throwing it in the dumpster. The cook’s car was no longer in the parking lot, though Purple hadn’t even noticed him leave.

Red looked up, catching Purple’s eye once again. He gave a little nod and a tight lipped smile. He waved at the young man before going back into the diner. A few moments later, Purple saw a light go on in a window above the diner. He looked away, staring down the road at the two headlights getting brighter and closer. A green colored taxi pulled up against the curb, honking at Purple as it did so. He grabbed his bags, shoving them into the backseat before climbing in beside them.

“So Novak actually closed down tonight?” The cabbie said with an amused smile. “Sizz finally got to him, I guess.”

Purple laughed awkwardly. “Uh yeah.. I guess.”

The driver pulled away from the curb sharply, looking at Purple through the rear-view mirror. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

He looked up, a little surprised and shook his head. “Uh, no. I’m not.”

“Hm.” The driver gave a little nod before turning his attention back to the road. “He’s a good guy. Came down a few years ago from somewhere out East. Ever been?”

Purple thought back to his college days. “No, not really.” He very much wanted this conversation to end. He just wanted to get to his destination in peace.

The cabbie seemed to finally get this. “So where to?” He asked.

The bus terminal. Purple knew that’s where he wanted to go. So why was he not saying anything? He looked down at the styrofoam box in his lap, suddenly realizing he didn’t pay. It was a reason that normally wouldn’t be enough for him to stay somewhere this uneventful, but there was just something in him that desperately was looking for any reason not to go just yet. 

“The nearest hotel.” Purple said without thinking about it too much. The driver nodded, and pulled into town in search of somewhere that would fit his passenger’s vague needs. Purple was just glad that the other man had chosen not to dump him off at the motel that had a sign boasting their hourly rate rather than any nightly fee.

He eventually dumped him off at a Motel Six. The young man paid the driver a little extra and went in to check out a basic room on the second floor. The doors to the rooms were all on the outside of the building, which did make Purple a bit uneasy. But it was fine. It was just for the night, anyway.

He opened up the door to the hotel room, throwing the Styrofoam box into the little fridge under the desk and collapsing in an actual bed for what had to be the first time in days. 

He would pay Red tomorrow for the food, and then be on his way. That was it.

\---

He arrived at the diner the next morning at ten, quite glad to see that he did not get the same cab driver as last night. The place was much busier during the day, but still far from crowded.

He climbed out of the taxi, looking at the establishment again in the daylight. It honestly felt like a whole different place. He could hear music and chatter from the inside, making the entire place seem much more alive than it had been last night.

He walked up to the door, jumping suddenly as a short, stocky teenage boy pushed past him.

“Sorry, excuse me!” He apologized hastily. Purple noticed the red shirt he was wearing and recognized it as the same uniform Red had on last night. The boy kept the door open so that he could walk in behind him before running behind the counter.

Red was already there, dishing out plates to the people sitting at the bar. He saw the boy and frowned. “Skoodge, you’re late.”

“I know, I’m sorry!” The boy pulled a red baseball cap off of a hook and put it on over his unruly brown hair. “The bus was late, and-”

“It’s fine.” Red pushed the rag he was using to clean off the counters last night towards Skoodge. “Table four needs cleaning. Table seven needs their orders taken. Do that in whatever order you feel like.”

The boy gave a nod and rushed off. Red looked over to the door, suddenly noticing Purple standing there awkwardly. He gave a wave before yelling something through the window that led to the kitchen.

Purple saw a man at the bar right in front of Red slide his check over to the young man, as well as the money he owed for the meal before getting up to leave. Purple quickly moved to take his seat.

Red turned around again. “Listen, if the food got you sick, we have an LLC-”

“No, that’s not what I’m here for.” Purple laughed awkwardly, pulling his wallet out. “I actually kinda um… forgot to pay last night?”

Red looked unbothered. “Oh. Yeah, that’s fine.”

He turned back around, collecting a plate from the window and delivering it to the woman a few seats down. Purple blinked in confusion.

“Er, how much was it?” He asked, watching as Red took the order slip from Skoodge and clipped it to a string hanging over the window.

“It’s no big deal, I forgot how much it was anyway.” Red finally had a moment to actually breathe, leaning back against the empty counter behind him.

Purple wasn’t sure how to respond to this. “Um… Can I at least just give you something for it?”

Red laughed. “If it matters so much, you can order something now and just pay double. Though, I don’t know why you aren’t just taking the free meal and running.”

Purple didn’t know either. He wasn’t necessarily known as an overly honest man. “Uh, alright. I’ll have the same thing then.”

Red shot him finger guns before turning around and grabbing his notepad and writing down something. He clipped it to the line right in front of the order Skoodge had given him.

Purple looked around, trying to find something interesting to focus on while he waited for his food. When he couldn’t find anything to watch except for Red taking orders and delivering food, he pulled his notebook out of his bag and attempted to write down something.

The rush ended, and it seemed like most of the people were leaving all at once. Purple was staring at an almost blank page when a plate was slid in front of him. Red eyed his notebook curiously.

“What’re you writing?” He asked, not making any obvious move to try and see what was on the page but still craning his neck ever so slightly. Purple closed the notebook.

“Oh, uh… a story, I guess?” He put the notebook back into his bag and slid the plate into the now empty space in front of him.

Red nodded. “So you’re a writer?’ He asked, grabbing a milkshake from the counter.

Purple shrugged. “Kinda?”

“Well, what have you written?” He asked, sliding the milkshake in front of Purple.

“Uh… nothing yet.” He picked up the milkshake and looked up at Red with a confused look. “I didn’t order this?”

“Yeah,” Red shrugged. “The kitchen messed up, and I’m lactose intolerant. I just don’t want to waste it.” He looked at purple over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s free of charge.”

“I think I’ve taken enough food from you ‘free of charge’.” Purple pointed out. “What flavor is it?”

“Strawberry.” Red said simply.

Ok, Purple did really like strawberry. He took a hesitant sip, deciding that if the cook took the time to make it, someone might as well drink it.

The diner was almost entirely cleared, except for a few people still sitting in the scattered booths. The omelette was cold, but Purple was still eating it slowly as he talked with Red in small but pleasant intervals. Their conversations were short, but still seemed to reveal little bits of the two men’s personalities. Red had a dry sense of humor, but not a very large vocabulary. Still, there was something about the blunt and simple way that he said things that made Purple interested.

Skoodge came up behind Red, tapping him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, am I good to take my lunch break?”

Red gave him a nod of approval, and the boy rushed out of the restaurant quickly, as if Red might change his mind.

“Wait, what time is it?” Purple asked, looking around to try and find a clock.

Red pulled out his phone. “3:15.”

Purple almost choked on his eggs. “Really?”

He had definitely missed checkout. By three hours and fifteen minutes, to be exact. Red laughed. “Yeah, you ate really slowly today. But at least there isn’t any ketchup on your face this time.”

Purple relaxed a little, comforted by the fact that Red didn’t seem to think it was weird that he had been sitting there talking with him and eating the same food for the past five hours. “I should probably get going… And I’m not leaving without paying this time.”

Red rolled his eyes, grabbing the check off of the counter behind him. “I still don’t get you. I think I would have just ditched hours ago. I’ve already proven that I’m not competent enough to remember to charge cute guys.” He said the last part just as dry as the rest of the sentence, making Purple think it might have been a joke. 

Purple took a look at the receipt, doubling it and passing the money back over to Red. The other young man counted it, putting some of it in the register and passing the rest back to Purple. “Your change.”

Purple looked down at the other half of the money. “Uh, I still have to pay for last night.”

Red shrugged, closing the register. “You can pay me back with a signed copy of your book.”

Purple laughed, not sure how to tell him that this “book” was eight years in the making, and still only amounted to a few crumpled and torn out notebook pages. “I’m not sure you want that…”

“Sure I do.” He said simply. “I need something good to read, and the library here is pitiful.”

Purple was desperate to change the conversation. “So uh, did that person ever get their milkshake?”

“Huh?” Red asked, giving him a weird look.

“The milkshake? The one the kitchen messed up?” Purple continued. “I didn’t see you bring out any more milkshakes.”

The cook, Sizz, Poked his head through the window and laughed. “Is that what you told him-?” 

Red pulled down the metal shutter. “It’s getting too warm. The ovens, you know. Heat.” Red shrugged it off awkwardly. “Yeah, they changed their mind.”

Purple nodded. “Well, that’s too bad. It was a good milkshake.”

There was a muffled “thank you” from behind the shutter.

“Well, I gotta get back to the hotel.” Purple added with an awkward wave. “See you around.”

“Wait,” Red interjected. “You don’t live around here?”

Purple shook his head. “Uh, no. I honestly don’t live anywhere for too long. A bit of a wanderer, you know?”

That sounded much cooler than “aimless and melodramatic man in his late twenties with a complicated relationship with his family”.

“So how long are you staying?” He asked. “A few weeks?”

Purple thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure yet.” He looked back up at Red. “Why?”

Red shrugged, leaning against the counter. “The work day just goes a bit faster when there’s a good conversation.” He waved. “Well, I hope I’ll be seeing you around too.”

Purple smiled at him before walking out under the hot Arizona sun. He didn’t call a taxi, deciding to walk instead.

Red was a strange person. He was almost contradictory. Both deadpan and straight forward, as well as a complete mystery. He was open about nothing, but had a way of staying guarded that made you think that he was actually letting his guard down.

Purple thought that maybe he had finally found a story worth telling. He just had to find out what exactly that story was.


	2. From Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back!

Purple entered the diner the next day a little bit earlier than he had the night before. Red noticed him immediately this time, fittingly since he was one out of the three patrons.

“Our food isn’t that good.” He said simply. “I have no idea why anyone in their right mind would come here three days in a row.”

Purple smiled. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess I’ll leave-”

“Wait a second, I did not say that!” Red actually smiled at that. “No need to make any drastic decisions.”

Purple took his usual seat in front of Red. “Do I even have to say it?”

Red did not break eye contact, but did pull a plate off of the back counter with an omelette and fries. ”No.”

“You had it ready?” Purple took the plate from him. “Wow, I must be growing on you.”

“More than you can imagine!” Sizz shouted from the kitchen. Red pulled down the metal shutter.

“So, why exactly are you here?” Red asked. “Because it’s definitely not for the food.”

Purple shrugged. “I don’t really know the area that well. As far as I’m concerned, you might as well be the only restaurant in a twenty mile radius.”

“Wait, have you really not done any exploring?” Red asked, his hand no longer cleaning off the counter. “What kind of wanderer are you? You really just go back and forth from here to the hotel?”

Purple’s mouth was full of egg. “Yeah?”

“That’s just unacceptable.” Red states. “Listen, I’ve got a lunch break in a few hours… How about I take you out? You know, see the sights and stuff.”

Red looked down at a glass, picking it up and observing it like his life depended on it. Purple didn’t quite know why, but he still took a mental note of it. “Wouldn’t you rather just enjoy your time off?”

“Normally I spend my lunches in the back room, listening to Sizz talk about some boomer shit.” Red said. “Your company would be a massive upgrade.”

Purple actually smiled at that. “Alright, I guess. When do you take your lunch break.”

Red blinked. “Whenever I want. I’m the owner.” He thought for a second. “But I should probably wait until Skoodge gets here.”

“It’s alright, I’m fine with waiting.” Purple said. “I’ll probably just write or something.”

Red smiled a bit. “You should let me read what you’ve got so far.”

“Uh, no…” Purple laughed nervously. “I’m paying you back for that meal with the book, remember? I don’t want to spoil it.”

Red nodded. “Ok, fair I guess. But-”

Red was cut off by a large group of patrons, who burst through the door and greeted him loudly. He gave them a half smile and waved, shooting Purple an apologetic look before going to take their orders.

Purple took out his notebook, scribbling down a quick description of the now busy diner. He got to Red, and suddenly didn’t even know where to begin. He was tall, pale, he had a strange kind of energy that Purple couldn’t quite describe. He had red hair that never really fell quite the same from day to day. He always rolled up his sleeves, but never buttoned the top button of his shirt. He was blunt, dry, witty, handsome-

Purple pushed that thought down, closing his notebook and putting it away. Maybe now wasn’t a good time for writing after all.

He passed the next few hours by with small talk, and the occasional mindless phone game while he waited for Skoodge to get there. Red would chat with him when he had the time, but the busy diner was managing to keep him on the move constantly. 

Purple found himself looking up every single time he heard the door open, trying to see if it was Skoodge. When he finally did see the chubby teen come running through the door, he let out a sigh of relief. Red smiled at him before walking up to Skoodge. 

“You think you can run the register?” He asked.

Skoodge looked up at him, wide eyed. “Wait, you’re letting me?”

Red looked like he might end up regretting this. “Just be careful with it. Sizz is here if you have any questions.” He looked around the diner. “All of the rush our people have already gotten their food, so the only thing you have to do is take the money and help any new customers. Can you do that?”

Skoodge nodded enthusiastically. “Yes sir!”

“Alright.” He sighed. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Take all the time you need!” Sizz called, leaning against the doorway that led to the kitchen. “I don’t think you’ve ever actually taken a lunch break for as long as I’ve worked here. The kid and I can handle this for a few hours.”

Red looked around, seeming a bit unsure. “Alright… but if anything goes wrong, text me immediately.”

The two gave him a thumbs up before getting right to work, Sizz retreating back to the kitchen and Skoodge bouncing on his heels excitedly behind the register.

Red winced. “Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

The two decided to walk into town, stopping by a local store and getting some snacks rather than sitting down at a restaurant. The town was quite small, with its main downtown area seeming to be the only non-residential area. It was just one long road with various shops and businesses squeezed close together in small, connected buildings. The street ended right at a park of some type, with a playground under the shade of some trees and a few picnic tables and benches near a modestly sized fountain. Purple would have to come back later to describe it all clearly.

The two young men dumped the contents of their plastic bags on a picnic table, one that was shaded by a nearby tree. 

“Alright, I’ve been dying to ask.” Red said as he struggled to open a bag of goldfish. “What’s up with the name ‘Purple’?”

Purple laughed, nearly spitting out his pepsi. “You have no right to make fun of my name! Your’s is literally Red, you can’t make fun of me for my name being a color!”

Red shook his head, mouth full of goldfish. “No, Red is a perfectly normal nickname! How the hell did anyone look at you and decide they should call you Purple?”

“You really want to know why?” Purple laughed.

“Yes!” Red insisted. “Tell me!”

Purple took a breath. “I choked on a grape when I was in third grade. In front of my entire class.” He took a sip of his soda. “I guess I turned purple at one point? The name just stuck after that.”

Red made a face. “Man, kids are fucked up.” He leaned forward. “So you get a really morbid childhood nickname at, what, eight years old? And you decide to just keep it into adulthood?”

“Yes.” Purple nodded. “So why ‘Red’?”

“Why do you think?” Red said, pointing to his red hair. “I was the only ginger in my graduating class. Kids aren’t very clever.”

“Oh, so you can keep a weird childhood nickname, but I can’t?” Purple teased. “I see how it is.”

“To be fair, I didn’t have to nearly die to get mine.” Red pointed out. 

“Alright, smartass. My turn.” Purple smiled.

Red raised an eyebrow. “Your turn? What is this, twenty questions?”

“Yes, and just for that I’m going to count that as one of your questions.” Purple laughed a little. “Where are you from?”

“Medford, baby!” Red shot finger guns in Purple’s direction, an action that would have made him look much cooler if he wasn’t struggling to open a bottle of Coke. “Just a bit outside of Boston. Kinda uppity and really white, but hey it’s home.”

“That explains a lot.” Purple teased. “How the hell did you end up here?”

“Nope, no more questions until you answer yours.” Red kicks Purple gently under the table.

“Wait, that’s not part of the deal!” Purple laughed, kicking Red back.

“Yes it is.” Red said, finally managing to open the bottle with a proud smile. “Where did you grow up?”

Purple sighed. “Waunakee, Wisconsin.”

Red hummed. “Just from how you said that, I can tell you have no right to make fun of me for where I grew up.”

“Listen, Waunakee might be uppity and white as hell, but it doesn’t compare to Medford!” Purple pointed out. 

“Have you ever been to Medford?” Red asked. Purple thought for a moment.

“Yeah, a few times.” He admitted. “I went to college nearby, so sometimes me and my roommate would drive over to go to this restaurant we liked. Can’t remember what it was called, though.”

Red looked interested. “Where did you go? BU?” Red asked. “I definitely didn’t peg you as a Boston kind of guy.”

“Oh, uh…” Purple actually flushed in embarrassment. “No, I didn’t go to Boston. I mean I thought about it but it just wasn’t really my scene, you know? 

“Huh.” Red mused out loud. “Where did you go then?”

“Tufts.” Purple said simply.

Red almost spit out his soda. “What? You mean Tufts University?” His eyes were wide with shock, and for the first time he actually did look impressed. “Isn’t that an Ivy league school?”

“Well, no.” Purple flushed brighter. “Technically, it’s part of the little ivies. Ya know, schools that are good but not quite ‘Ivy League’ good.”

Red looked dumbfounded. “What was your major?”

Purple wanted to point out that Red had technically already asked his question, but decided against it. “Law.”

“You studied law?” Red looked like he was still trying to wrap his head around all of this. “What else, did you have to turn down Harvard too?”

Purple was silent.

“... You turned down HARVARD?” Red wasn’t really asking, just clarifying very loudly.

“Well, Harvard is expensive and Tufts offered me a full ride-!”

“You got a FULL RIDE?” Red all but slammed his hands on the table. “Holy shit…”

“Alright, I’m changing the topic now!” Purple was bright red with embarrassment. “Where did you go for college?”

“That’s not really ‘changing the topic’.” Red pointed out, still in disbelief.

“Just answer the question!” Purple said, throwing a cheese-it at his companion. 

Red rolled his eyes, but smiled. “I didn’t really go to college. I guess I took a 12 week class on finance at a local tech school, does that count?”

“I’ll allow it.” Purple gave a nod.

The two continued with their game, answering questions that ranged from “what’s your biggest fear?” to “What’s your favorite color?”.

“Is it bad if mine’s red?” Red asked.

“Depends, is it bad if mine is purple?” Purple tried to throw a mini Oreo up in the air and catch it in his mouth, but it ended up bouncing off of his top lip and rolled into the grass.

“Alright, fair enough.” Red laughed. “Who’s turn is it?”

“Mine.” Purple half raised his hand, then leaned forward. “What’s your family like?”

Red stilled. “Oh, uh… weird, I guess?” He fiddled with the cap of his soda. “Uh, my mom and dad were- are split up. I’ve got two brothers. One’s older, and one’s younger.”

“How old are they?” Purple asked.

“My younger brother is 26,” He thought for a moment. “I’m not even sure how old my older brother is. Technically, he’s my half brother. A kid from my dad’s previous marriage. He always liked my mom better, though. I think he’s in his early forties now, but I’m not sure.”

Red looked back up at Purple, as though he had said nothing. “So what about you?”

“Oh, I have a younger sister.” Purple admitted, though he didn’t know why. “We aren’t that close.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Red said awkwardly. The two sat in uncomfortable silence for a bit.

“Do you wanna pretend that part of the conversation never happened?” Red asked. Purple shook his head vigorously.

The two finished their “meal” (though you can’t really call it that) and began to walk back to the diner. Their conversation continued in short intervals, but mostly just let themselves walk in comfortable silence and enjoy eachothers company.

About half way back to the restaurant, Red’s phone began buzzing. He pulled it out, checking his messages and sighed. “Skoodge locked the key to the register inside of it again.” He said simply, pushing his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh, yikes…” Purple muttered. 

Red gave a calm shrug. “I’ve got the other key with me, so it’ll be fine. I am going to have to give another staff meeting about making sure everyone knows where the key is at all times, though.”

Purple smiled to himself. “It’s impressive, you know.” He said honestly. “How patient you are with him.”

Red bit his lip, like he was thinking about what he was going to say next. “He reminds me of my brother.” 

He didn’t specify which one, but he sounded honest when he said it. Like he hadn’t even admitted it to himself yet.

The two reached the diner, stopping just outside of it.

“I should probably get back to the hotel.” Purple said. “You know, actually work on that book. I owe you the first copy, after all.”

Red nodded. “Do you maybe want to come back later? You know, after we close down?” Red rubbed the back of his neck. 

Purple gave him a smile. “Probably not tonight… But I’ll definitely have to do that someday.”

Red smiled at him too, looking pleased. “Alright, I better go fix the mess in there. See you tomorrow?”

Purple nodded. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

The other young man’s smile widened, and Purple watched as he gave him a short wave and headed back into the diner.

\---

Purple hadn’t thought about Tak in probably three years. He and his younger sister had never been close, not in age or in interests. They were seven years apart, which did not help them all that much when it came to being able to connect.

They were also just so different in every sense of the word. Purple was the kind of person that knew a lot, but never really tried. He just genuinely didn’t care much about anything, but had the capability of being good at everything.

Tak had not inherited this natural talent, but had something that took her farther than any of Purple’s completely unearned skills ever would. She had an actual drive to learn more. Last time Purple had seen her in person, she had been standing at the airport gate and not looking back.

She got into some top college in England, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t come back to the states since.

He stared at his phone, her contact open and his thumb hovering over the call button. He didn’t even know if she wanted to talk to him, or if she had the same number, or if she was even alive. They have never been close, so why did he suddenly want to try to be now? Wasn’t it a bit too late for that?

Purple sighed, knowing that this was long overdue. If she hated him, then that was fine. If she didn’t care (which was almost worse), then that was… fine.

He hit the call button.

RING

“Please don’t pick up…” He whispered, crossing his arms and falling backwards onto the hotel bed.

“Hello?” Her voice had the slightest hint of an accent now, but he knew it was her. She always had a very distinctive voice, and that clearly hadn’t changed with age.

He didn’t say anything at first. He wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“Hello?” She sounded more annoyed now, which somehow sounded even more familiar to Purple than the friendlier tone she had used at first.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Hey, Tak…”

“Peter…” Tak said. “Um, hi?”

“Hi.” He said, a bit taken aback by someone using his real name. It had been a while since anyone had called him Peter.

“Is everything alright?” She didn’t sound concerned, more like confused. “Did something happen to mom?”

“No.” He said quickly. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know.”

“So you still aren’t talking with her?” Tak sounded disappointed.

Purple suddenly felt ashamed. “Um, no. No, we don’t.” He laughed dryly. “She’s still mad that I-”

“Threw away your entire future?” Tak suggested. “Because I can see where she’s coming from.”

Purple sighed, suddenly remembering why he didn’t talk to his family that often. “I didn’t call to talk about this. I hear it enough.”

“I thought you two weren’t talking.” Tak pointed out in that annoying way that she used to when they were younger. It was a tone of voice that she had developed solely for the moments when she was convinced that she had caught Purple in a lie. Granted, normally she was right. Purple lied often.

“We aren’t.” Purple sighed. “But she does like to send me christmas cards whenever she manages to track me down that have lovely handwritten notes about how I’m a disappointment.”

“She just wants what’s best for you, you know that.” Tak said this about as gently as she could. “She loves us.”

“Is that why she sent you to a different country?” Purple retorted. “Is it because she loves you?”

Tak went silent for a moment. “Why did you call then?”

Purple didn’t know how to answer that. Because he had talked to Red about her earlier and suddenly remembered he had a family? Because she randomly crossed his mind and now he feels guilty? Because she’s his sister and he misses her?

“Just to talk.” He finally settles on. “That’s all.”

Tak goes quiet again, and for a second Purple thinks she may have hung up. A few seconds pass before she speaks again. “Why?”

Purple hesitates. “Because that’s what siblings do.”

“Do we even count as that anymore?” Tak stated it more than asked. Like it didn’t need to be answered.

“Is it too late?” Purple asked. 

Tak thought for a moment. “What changed?” She sounded angry. “Why do you suddenly want to be my brother? You never even tried when we were younger, you wanted nothing to do with me!”

There was no way to make what Purple did right. He remembered how Tak used to follow him around when she was little. How annoyed he would get when she would copy everything he did. She stopped when she was seven, realizing that Purple was always going to be miles away from her no matter how hard she tried to catch up.

He left almost as soon as he turned 18. He didn’t come back for another seven years, and even that was brief. He wasn’t her brother. He was an old roommate at best.

“Someone I met reminded me.” Purple said honestly. “I can’t fix everything I did. I know that. But maybe we can start over?”

Tak didn’t answer immediately, which Purple understood. He was asking a lot right now, and he was quite positive that neither of them really deserved second chances.

“... How have you been?” Tak asked. Purple smiled. 

It was her way of saying “Yes”.


	3. New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IDK man, gay shit and tragic backstories

Purple had stayed up all night talking with Tak. The conversation had started off slow, with long awkward pauses dividing every topic before one of them would speak up again.

But after about an hour, things were starting to pick up. Tak told him about the girl in her sociology seminar who sat just a few rows ahead of her. She had let her borrow a pencil once, and apparently that was enough for Tak to fall head over heels.

Purple told Tak about his roommate back east, who was still living in their shared apartment and who he still sent half of the rent to. He told her about the girl in Kansas, who had stayed at the bed and breakfast with him. He mentioned the older man from California, who had bought up tons of shares of stock in some grocery chain, made a fortune, and lost it all in a year. He gave the highlight reel of New York; A woman his own age who was another aspiring writer, A guy working at a gas station a few years younger than him, an aspiring broadway actor who would go down in infamy in Purple’s mind as his longest and most unsatisfying relationship ever, and a street performer with a talent for stealing his wallet while he was still half naked and asleep in a cheap motel bed.

“Anyone recently?” She had asked teasingly.

That’s when he finally brought up Red by name. Not in the same way he had mentioned the others, though. He was not part of that group in any sense. He was not a lover, or part of a phase that Purple would laugh at later on in life. He was just interesting. The subject of some divine type of inspiration.

“Just be careful with him…” Tak had warned after he had finished telling her about his temporary muse.

Purple hadn’t quite understood what she meant. “I’m not going to hurt him or anything.”

All she had said in response was this. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

He had slept through the rest of the next day, not getting up until almost 4:30 in the afternoon. He was a little bit slower than usual getting ready for the day, still groggy and mourning the death of his regular sleep schedule.

He didn’t walk through the diner’s doors until about 6:15, the last few dinner rush patrons passing him as they left. It was just a small group of teenage boys, a middle aged trucker, Purple, and Red standing at his usual place behind the counter. 

He looked up, his face brightening as Purple gave him a friendly wave. Red leaned his head through the little window that led to the kitchen.

“Omelette and fries!” He called out, smiling widely.

“He’s here?” Sizz yelled back, sounding amused. Purple had to laugh, taking his own seat in front of his friend.

“So you’ve got my order memorized now?” Purple teased, plopping his bag down next to his seat.

Red shrugged, still beaming with excitement. “To be fair, it isn’t that complicated. You’re an easy man to please.” He passed him a fork. “So where were you this morning? We missed you.”

“We?” Purple asked. “I didn’t know I had made such a good impression on Sizz and Skoodge.”

Red rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine. I missed you a little bit more.” Red paused. “They missed you a little too, though. But it was mostly me.”

“He wouldn’t shut up about it.” Sizz appeared in the little window, plate in hand. “He probably mentioned that you weren’t here yet about five times every ten minutes.”

Red made a move to pull the metal shutter down, but realized that Sizz had a plate in his hand. He took it quite grumpily, ignoring the smirk on the older man’s face as he disappeared back into the kitchen without another word.

Red slid the plate in front of Purple. “So where were you?”

“Sleeping.” Purple said simply. “I was up pretty late last night.”

“Oh?” Red asked. “What were you doing exactly?”

Purple considered telling him the truth, but decided against it. His arrangement with Tak was still so new, he didn’t want to jinx it or get his own hopes up. Instead he smirked playfully. “I had a hot date. Went well.”

Red paled a bit. “Wait, really? With who? Was it Lard from the hardware store? Because he’s kind of a bitch.”

Purple laughed, nearly choking on a fork full of eggs. “Dude, I’m just kidding.”

Red suddenly fit his name well, his cheeks flushing as red as his hair. “Oh, ha. Right, sorry.”

“I’ll try to remember that, though.” Purple mused. “Avoid Lard?”

“Yes.” Red said quickly. “Please do.”

Purple took another bite of his food. “So what are you doing tonight?”

“What I always do. Working.” Red laughed. “Why, did you have a better plan?”

“I think any plan I have is better than that.” Purple pointed out. “Besides, I took a rain check on helping you close up. I’m free tonight if you are.”

“Oh, he’s free alright!” Sizz yelled from the kitchen. Red either didn’t hear him or was making an actual attempt to ignore him. He stared at Purple, almost transfixed.

“Yeah, I’m free.” Red said simply. “That’s fine.”

Purple nodded, smiling. “So when are you closing? 11:30?

“10:00.” Red said quickly. “We close early on Sunday’s.”

“Um,” Purple raised an eyebrow. “It’s Thursday?”

“Which I’ve been told is like the Sunday of the weekdays.” Red smiled. “So yeah, 10:00.”

Purple laughed. “Alright, 10:00. I’ll just hang around until then.”

Purple ate slower than usual, talking with Red and Sizz in between each customer that came in and out of the diner at no particular rate or in any pattern. Their conversation was shallow, but not in a bad way. It was comfortable, just having small talk with the same person for hours at a time without getting bored. 

9:30 rolled around faster than one would expect. The diner was mostly empty, aside from one young woman eating a sandwich quite slowly at one of the booths. Red was watching her intently, waiting for her to leave before he said anything else.

She must not have noticed as she calmly finished her meal off bite by bite before slowly walking up to the counter, paying, and leaving. She was barely out of the door before Red called back into the kitchen.

“Sizz, you’re good to go!” Red yelled. 

Sizz appeared in the window, looking quite confused. “Already? But-”

“No one’s in the diner, and we’re only about thirty minutes from closing. You’ll be fine if you duck out early. You know, like you always do on Thursdays.” He ended this with a pleading look.

“But aren’t you gonna need help closing up the dining area?” Sizz asked, still seeming lost.

“I’ve got help.” Red smiled slyly, pointing back to Purple, who could have sworn he saw the other young man wink at the cook.

Sizz nodded understandingly. “Oh, ok. Right. Then I will go early. Like I do every Thursday.” 

“Yes.” Red agreed. “You have fun, we’ve got it from here!”

Sizz didn’t take too long to close up the kitchen, leaving after only 15 minutes. Red quickly locked the door behind him, flipping the sign in the window from “Open” to “Closed”.

“So what do we do first?” Purple asked, getting up out of his seat.

“Disinfecting menus.” Red said, grabbing the lady’s plate from the counter. “I’m going to go wash this up, then I’ll be right out to help you with that. Spray bottle and rags are under the counter over there.”

Purple looked to where he was pointing, nodding before he slid behind the counter and knelt down to get them. He stood up, looking around and taking in how weird it was to look at the diner from this perspective. Is this what Red saw all the time?

He quickly placed the bottle and rags on the counter before sliding back out into the main dining area and collecting as many menus as he could carry before returning to his usual seat and spraying all of them down. 

Red came out after a few minutes and joined him. The actual work involved with closing down was not that hard, and if in the hands of more focused individuals it probably would have only taken about an hour. For Red and Purple, who took many breaks in between the trivial tasks to shoot little straw wrapper rockets at one another and see who could get a crumpled up napkin in the garbage from the farthest distance, it ended up taking almost three hours.

“Alright.” Red clapped, rag still in his hand from disinfecting the last stool at the counter. “That should be it then.”

Purple shoved the last of the now sanitized menus into their compartment, standing up and smoothing out the fabric of his jeans. He eyed the paper straw wrappers on the ground. “Well… almost.”

Red laughed, following his friend’s gaze and leaning down to scoop the wrappers up. He tossed them into the trash before looking back to Purple. “You wanna drink?”

Purple shrugged. “Sure, whaddya got?”

“I’m not sure…” Red furrowed his brow, absentmindedly taking the apron he was wearing off and hanging it on a hook behind the counter. Purple followed him as he opened up a door that Purple had always assumed led to a closet.

There were a few cleaning supplies, but most of the room was taken up by the set of stairs that led to another door at the top. The two walked up the stairs and into the small apartment above the diner.

It reminded Purple of the apartment he had back in Massachusetts, not in layout or decoration but just in the sheer amount of clutter. It was messy, but not in a way that made Purple want to gag. Just in a way that made it look a bit more lived in than Purple had expected.

It also hadn’t been renovated in a while, seeing as most of the appliances and wall colors looked like something straight out of the 80’s. The door was located awkwardly, making it so that when Purple stepped in one foot was nestled on the shag carpeting of the living room and the other pressed against the tile of the kitchen floor.

Red made a beeline for the fridge, which was quite small. When he opened it, Purple could see that it wasn’t stocked well. There was ketchup, some leftover takeout, and a variety of sugary drinks.

“Alright,” Red said. “We have beer, Coke, Sprite, milk-”

“Beer.” Purple said with no hesitation.

Red nodded approvingly, grabbing two beers out of the fridge and handing one to Purple. He took it, taking a step further into the apartment and looking around again. There was a really nice laptop sitting on the coffee table, as well as an unreasonable amount of expensive junk food that juxtaposed the overall “broke” vibe of the entire apartment. 

Red opened his beer can with the signature hissing noise that was so commonly associated with aluminum cans, leaning back on the counter and watching Purple look around. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Nothing, I suppose.” Purple flicked his own can open, taking a long sip. He hadn’t had a beer since he was in high school, having switched more towards vodka in college. The taste was jarring, but not unwelcome.

“I’m assuming you don’t drink often?” Red teased, taking another sip from his own can.

Purple laughed. “No, not really.” 

Red laughed a bit as well, turning his head a little bit to look out the window. He smiled like a particularly devious kid in a candy store and turned back to Purple with his cheshire grin. “You wanna climb on the roof?” He asked it like they were 13 and left home alone for the first time.

Purple looked into Red’s eyes, and suddenly felt that contagious energy. He smiled at him back, just as deviously, and nodded.

The two walked over to the window, a bit giddier than most people in their late twenties should ever be about doing something so childish. Red opened the window wide, handing Purple his beer before climbing out of the window. He stood carefully on a plank of wood that ran around the entire diner and grabbed the edge of the slanted roof, pulling himself up.

Purple climbed out after Red, passing the two cans up to his friend. Red put them to the side before helping Purple up. He took the other young man’s hand, steadying him as he pulled himself up to the roof.

Purple hadn’t meant to look up, but once he did he couldn’t look away. He could see every star in the sky, shining brightly like little white specks against the black sky. He had never seen the sky so beautiful and clear. He stood slowly, as if moving to fast would make it all fade away. 

“Does the sky not look like this in Waunakee, Wisconsin?” Red asked, amused by Purple and how his dark blue eyes were transfixed on the Arizona night sky.

Purple shook his head. “It hasn’t looked like that anywhere I’ve been…”

“Sounds like you’ve been to all the wrong places.” Red wasn’t looking at the sky. He was just watching as Purple drank it all in, like he had made it just for him.

“I’m starting to think so too.” Purple smiled, sitting down and looking to Red for a moment. He took his beer back, taking a sip and looking back up.

“So where have you been?” Red asked, sitting down next to him.

“New York, Seattle, Chicago, Detroit, Boston,” Purple began to list off, but suddenly lost interest entirely. “Pretty much everywhere.”

“That must be amazing.” Red marveled. “Just going wherever you want, not worrying about a job or bills. It seems freeing.”

“It’s lonely.” Purple said without thinking. He laughed a little. “I used to love it, but now I’m running out of places that I can go without going bankrupt. I just don’t get that thrill anymore…”

Red laughed. “Sounds like you’re getting old.”

Despite how both untrue and unfunny it was, Purple laughed too. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”

“There’s Cassiopeia!” Red said excitedly. Purple sat up and turned his head to look down at the sidewalk. He was confused until he looked over that Red and saw that the other man was pointing upward.

Purple blinked. “Who?"

“It’s a constellation.” Red said it as if that was supposed to explain anything. The other young man slid closer, pointing at the sky and tracing out the shape with his finger. “That one right there, the one that looks like an ‘M’!”

Purple nodded, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He pointed at some random part of the sky. “What’s that one?”

“Draco.” Red said with no hesitation, tracing the shape out with his finger.

“Like the bitch from Harry Potter?” Purple asked, an eyebrow raised.

Red laughed, nodding. “Yeah, that’s him.”

Purple took another sip of his beer. “He’s long.” Purple pointed out. “A very long boy.”

“Yes he is.” Red agreed. “One would even argue that he’s unreasonably long.”

Purple pointed to another random part of the sky. “And what’s there?”

“Leo.” Red said, tracing the shape out again. “The really bright star in there is Regulus. The other bright star over there is Arcturus, and that star cluster is the Pleiades. You can kind of see Betelguese over there if you really look.It’s a cool star, but it might explode soon, which sucks. But it’s gonna look really cool then too. Supernova and all.”

Purple nodded, actually impressed by all of this. “Where did you learn all of this?” He asked, amazed.

Red smiled fondly at the sky. “My younger brother was obsessed with this kind of stuff. He loved the stars and constellations when he was little, especially the ones with stories to them. He took a whole bunch of classes on astronomy and mythology in school. I was kind of the designated study partner.” Red laughed. “He was convinced he was going to be an astronomer one day.”

“Did he?” Purple laughed.

Red’s smile fell. “I uh… I don’t know.” He admitted. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Oh…” Purple said softly. “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough.”

“Don’t be.” Red gave a humorless laugh. “It’s my fault. I’m glad he doesn’t.”

Purple knew he should change the topic, but there was something about Red that had always compelled him. He just wanted to know more and more about him. He chose to believe it was the fact that he knew there was a great story behind him. Now, he was sitting right on the edge of unlocking it. The only thing he had ever wanted, right there in front of him.

“Why?” Purple asked. It was just one word, but it held far too much power.

Red hesitated. He bit at his bottom lip absentmindedly before looking over to Purple. He surveyed the other young man’s face, like he was trying to look for a missing piece of his own story right there. He opened his mouth to speak, something that told Purple he just might have found it.

“Zim and I were really close as kids.” He started carefully. “He was only two years younger than me, so we were pretty much inseparable from the moment he was born. We didn’t look alike, which was something that we didn’t care about but other people did. They always wanted to know which one of us was adopted, or if we knew that we couldn’t actually be siblings. It was one of the first sentences in the english language that I learned to understand.”

Purple turned his body so that he was facing Red, who’s eyes were a bit glazed as he continued. “Neither of us were adopted.” He said. “My mom was Desi and my dad was white as hell. We just ended up being on the two opposite sides of that range.”

He looked over to Purple, who was still listening intently. ‘Our parents didn’t get along. They hadn’t for years, but they usually left us out of it. Well, my dad got really angry at her when I was 16. She was sick, and she would do and say things that she didn’t mean all the time. He said…”

Red trailed off, swallowing a sob and looking like he was trying not to cry. Purple wanted to tell him that it was alright, that he didn’t have to tell him if he didn’t want to. But before he could, Red continued with a broken voice.

“He said we weren’t his. He wanted me and Zim to take a paternity test.” Red admitted it like it was his own fault. “He wouldn’t even speak to us until the results came back. And when he got them, they said I was his… but Zim wasn’t.”

“I’m so sorry…” Purple wasn’t sure what else to say but that.

Red teared up more. “I wouldn’t have cared if he had been adopted. Blood didn’t matter, he was still my brother. Why did I care that we didn’t have the same dad?”

Purple scooted closer to him, hesitating before putting his hand on Red’s shoulder to comfort him. “It’s alright. You were just a kid, it was a lot to take in.”

Red didn’t respond. Not directly. “He left us. He cut Zim and Mom off financially. He didn’t want to see me either. And Mom just got sicker… And I pulled back.” Red laughed in a sad, dry way. The kind of laugh that you only hear when someone is full of regret. “I was so mean to him. It wasn’t his fault, but I still blamed him. When I was 18, we got into some stupid fight and I stormed out.”

He paused. “Two years later, our mom died.” He said. “I was in Phoenix. Almost a whole continent away from Zim and Mom. he tried to call me a week before, when they knew she wasn’t going to last long. I told him to go with her, that it would solve all my problems. And a week later, our older brother Spork called and told me she was dead.”

Red wasn’t crying now, just staring out into the sky. “We haven’t spoken since. Spork keeps me updated, but he’s got his own life to keep up with and three kids to look after. He can’t keep up with a younger half brother who has made it clear he wants nothing to do with him. Zim refuses to talk to him anymore, especially after he found out Spork was keeping me updated. All I know is that he lives in LA, he’s got a kid, and he still hates me.”  
Purple bit his lip. “Do you know where in LA?”

“Yeah.” Red said. “I’ve had the address memorized for three years.”

“You should go talk to him.” Purple suggested lightly. “It’s not too late, you know. You can still fix this.”

Red smiled sadly and shook his head. “Even if I did, I don’t think I want him to forgive me.”

Purple raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because it means that I did a piss poor job as an older brother if he thinks it’s alright to let people hurt him twice.” Red said calmly. “I really want to believe he has enough spite in him to protect himself from me.”

The two fell silent, laying on the roof and staring up at the sky. Purple waited until red stopped sounding like he was holding back tears before he spoke up again.

“What’s your favorite constellation?” He asked, rolling over so that he was laying on his side.

Red laughed. “So we go from childhood trauma to constellations again?” He smiled up at Purple, who was leaning his head in his palm and waiting for an answer. “...Lyra.”

“Is there a story behind it?” He asked, hoping that it would get his friend into a better mood.

Red laughed a little. “You want to hear a story?” He didn’t sound surprised, just a little bit amazed.

“I’m a writer,” Purple said, adjusting his position so that he could be comfortable laying against the roof tiles. “Stories are kinda my thing.”

Red smiled at him again before turning his attention back up towards the sky. ‘You know Orpheus and Eurydice, right?” He asked.

Of course Purple knew them. He had read the Percy Jackson books in middle school like any self respecting bisexual. He had also been the weird world mythology kid in third grade. Orpheus and Eurydice were kind of a staple in any book on greek mythology. Not having them is kind of like forgetting to mention Zeus.

But for the sake of his own agenda, Purple shook his head. “No, can’t say I do.”

Red didn’t buy it for a moment. He could see it just from the look on his face. But for some unknown reason, he pretended that he did believe him and continued. “Well, uh… Orpheus was this guy. He was like, really good with music and stuff. And he had this wife, her name was Eurydice. And one day she just kinda died and he got really upset.”

Purple had to admit, it wasn’t the most poetic retelling he had heard. But he was entranced nonetheless. He leaned closer as if it would help him hear better.

“And so he started writing these really sad songs, which kinda bummed everyone out. So Apollo…” He paused, looking to Purple to make sure he knew who that was. As much as Purple wanted to hear how Red would describe Apollo, he also wasn’t quite sure he was ready to derail this particular story. He gave him a nod of confirmation. 

Red continued. “So Apollo came down, I think he was his dad?” He wasn’t in most tellings, but Purple would allow it. “Basically he told him to go to hell.”

Red laughed at his own joke. “But, um… yeah. He went down to the underworld and sang a really sad breakup song to get Hades to give him his wife back.”

Purple gave a meaningful nod. “He Taylor Swift-ed his way into hell.”

“I resent that.” Red grimace. Purple had to admit, it might have been the worst joke he had ever made. But he believed that there was something in that statement to be proud of. “Anyway, Hades says it’s fine but she had to like… walk behind him. And if he turned around she would go back to being dead for good. And yeah, he turned around. So she had to go back.”

Purple nodded slowly. “Alright… so what does this have to do with Lyra?”

“Oh, right!” Red laughed. “So Orpheus kept being sad and writing sad songs, but people got really sick of it and a cult like… ate him. So the Gods felt bad and they took his little lyre- it’s like a tiny harp- and they made a constellation. The end.”

Purple laughed. It was the absolute worst retelling he had ever heard, but he loved every second of it. “Tell me another one.” He said gently.

Red smiled, telling him about every constellation that popped into Purple’s head. Ganymede the water bearer, the twins Pollux and Castor, Andromeda, the swan that delivered Ganymede to Zeus, the hunter Orion. He told each story with the same simple charm as he had with the first. He paused often to take sips from his beer can, which always seemed to result in the story becoming a little more disjointed.

“And yeah, they hung him up in the sky. And Artemis was probably really pissed about it.” Red finished the tragedy of Orion with a certain lack of grace that would have made Homer and Plato roll in their graves. “But I’m pretty sure you already knew that.” He gave Purple a sly smile.

“What do you mean?” Purple laughed, taking another small sip of his beer.

“You’re an awful liar.” Red said simply. “Plus you kept correcting me. Kind of a dead giveaway that you knew what I was talking about.”

Purple laughed nervously. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

“So what’s your favorite story?” Red leaned closer now, waiting.

Purple hesitated, moving his wrist and spinning the last few sips of alcohol around in the bottom of the can just to feel the weight shift. “Achilles.”

“Achilles?” Red raised an eyebrow. “Just him or is there someone else involved?”

Purple rolled his eyes. “Fine, Achilles and Patroclus.”

Red hummed. “Kind of a downer, isn’t it? I mean, they’re both dead.”

“To be fair,” Purple pointed out. “All of the Greek myths are downers. At least this one has some kind of bittersweet end to it.”

“Love stories tend to have those.” Red mused, somewhat poetically as well. They were a bit closer now, but Purple didn’t want to dwell on that too much.

“Never took you for a cynic.” He said, unconsciously scooting closer as well.

Red shrugged. “I never took you for a romantic. I guess we’re both full of surprises.”

Purple closed the gap. There’s no more romantic way to put it than just saying it as it is. By some unknown, indescribable force, Purple kissed him. There was nothing poetic about it, just the taste of beer and the cold fries they had snacked on earlier. 

Red only seemed surprised for a second before diving in head first in the same way that he always did. There was nothing beautiful about it, and Purple preferred it that way.

Just two assholes making out on a roof in the desert, with only the stars and the Greek tragedies written in them as their witnesses.


End file.
